


Take Me Home

by OneDay_of_Denial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Happy Ending, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, also at words aperently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneDay_of_Denial/pseuds/OneDay_of_Denial
Summary: Sam leaves for Stanford and Dean is lost, until he goes back home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Take Me Home

It's been hours. He's been on the road for hours, but he can still hear the slamming of the door over the purr of the car engine. Damn it if he can even hear the car engine at all.  
What was he doing anyway?  
It was Sam who wanted out. It was Sam who got out, and he was supposed to stay. Sammy leaves for some big shot collage gig and he stays to clean up the mess. That’s how it was supposed to go.  
He doesn't even know why he got in the car in the first place. John was yelling and he just needed a drink, but that doesn’t explain why he passed at least a dozen bars so far and still can't make himself turn that wheel and pull over.  
He has nowhere to go but back; and yet he is not turning the car over like he should have done before he crossed the state line in the first place.  
Sammy left and what is he supposed to do now?  
No, he knows the answer to that one. He is supposed to stay and hunt and keep their damn family together even though one has turned his back on the rest.  
The man’s knuckles turned white as his grip on the wheel tightened and he pushed the car to go faster.  
Of course it’s up to him to keep everything from imploding. When is it fucking not?  
He passed another bar in a blur, not even pretending to glance at this one. He just needs to ride this out a bit more and then he will go back and deal with the consequences.  
In the end it takes the light of the tank blinking red for Dean to finally pull the car over, even if it is just to fill baby with gas before he does something stupid, like gets stranded on the side of the rode in fucking Iowa.  
Filling up the gas is fast. Deciding what to do next is not.  
He knows he has been on the road for at least ten hours now, which means that it would take about the same to get back, more if he decides to stop for some shut eye.  
What is waiting for him there though? A drunk and pissed off John, that’s what. Sam sure as hell isn’t.  
The thought has Dean raking fingers though his hair is expiration. He’s pissed too. Of course he is. Sam just up and left without a warning and left him to deal with the aftermath. Hell, his phone has been going off for hours until the battery finally gave in on the thing and left Dean in blissful silence. Except that silence isn’t what he wants. He just wants to scream and punch the first person that does as much as look at him.  
He just wants out, even if just for a few days of driving, he wants to pretend none of this is happening right now. Like John didn’t yell after Sam to never come back. Pretend like Sam didn’t answer with ‘I don’t plan to’ right before slamming that damn door behind him.  
Fuck everything if he is going back into all of that before his own nerves calm down.  
The car horn is loud as he punches the steering wheel, getting the attention of other people on the pumps; not that he pays it much mind anyway; just starting the car and turning back onto the highway faster than it was intended.  
Instead of turning back he continues on. Not having anywhere to go still, but also not letting that stop him. If Sam can turn his back on them, then he can drive cross country for a few days damn it.  
It’s in South Dakota that he finally lets himself stop at a motel for the night. He doesn’t take the phone out of the glove department to charge. There’s no point. He can deal with his anger face to face when he’s ready to.  
However, it isn’t until he gets to Wyoming the next day that it hits him that maybe he does have a place he is heading to. And wow, isn’t he pathetic.  
Of course it’s where he’s been driving to. The thought makes him laugh even as he wants to cry.  
It’s been two years and he is still doing the same tango. No matter how many times he tells himself he is done with that part of his life, there he is again; driving through the same roads all the way from the other side of the country. He really is pathetic.  
He knows he should definitely turn around now. It’s stupid to even think of going back. Chances of anything actually waiting for him there is ridiculous and so far from anything realistic. It’s been two years after all. Twenty five months if he was going to be exact.  
Yeah, he should definitely stop now and turn back.  
The car speeds on anyway. It speeds all the way past the border of Idaho and right into Oregon. Just passing the border and seeing the all too familiar ‘Welcome to Oregon’ sign feels like a punch in the gut and it takes everything in Dean not to just turn around then.  
But he needs this. Fuck everything, he needs this, no matter how useless or pathetic that makes him sound.  
Because Sam left; and Dean has nothing now. Nothing but Oregon.  
.  
.  
.  
Dean has been parked for ten minutes now, his hand on the door feeling like a vice, but doing nothing more than just holding onto it.  
This is such a stupid idea.  
The church he is parked across from looks bigger than it ever has, looming over him and practically screaming just how much of a bad idea this all was. What was he thinking? He’s gonna get here and do what? Get in there and find a shoulder to cry on like some sissy?  
He lets his head fall onto the wheel with a soft thud, miscalculating enough that the horn blasts for a second before he readjusts with a curse. This was so stupid. He should have just stayed in that damn motel and dealt with John in the first place. It’s going to be so much worse when he gets back.  
The thought is bitter and makes bile rise up even though he knows the only thing he has actually eaten the past three days has been a piece of pie at one of the diners. And he doesn’t even know how long ago that was.  
He still doesn’t move though. Hope is a bitch like that. Sometimes it sneaks up on you even though you know better than to trust it. It should have been too long for any hope, he shouldn’t even feel hope. It’s stupid. The whole thing was stupid in the first place, let alone after six years.  
Who even knows if the thing he came here for is even still there. If he thinks about it, chances are that it isn’t. There is no way Dean has any kind of luck anymore. He has shed blood too many times for anything good in his life. And this is good. Was; he reminds himself with clenched fists. This was good. This was too good for Dean to keep in his life.  
Here he is though, stupid and broken and hopeful.  
Last time Dean checked the time it was 10am, but he has been parked there for a while now, so it’s probably later then that now. Traffic has definitely picked while he sat there like a coward that he is.  
He didn’t actually have to get out of the car anyway.  
The constant mantra of ‘Sammy left’ that has been pounding Deans head into a headache got washed out for the time it took him to get his head up and honk the car horn in three short pushes.  
As everything he has done the past few days it was stupid and so full of hope that it took more will power then he would like to admit not to break down right there in his damn car, in fucking Oregon. He’s so pathetic.  
The sound of the car door opening and a person sitting down next to him has Dean tensing, refusing to move his eyes from the stain on the car ceiling that he has been staring at for the past few minutes. He doesn’t deserve hope; he doesn’t deserve any of it. The door closed and he was left in the muffled sounds of the traffic outside and the constant pounding in his head.  
“Dean.”  
There it was. That voice.  
It’s deeper then he remembered, but still the same. That voice that would make his muscles relax and shoulders sag in relief whenever he would come back to it.  
The voice that made him feel like he was fifteen again.  
Relief went through his body like hot fire as he finally let himself look to the side and take in the man he has been avoiding for way too long. Gaze meeting a picture of a man different in many ways from the memories he had.  
His hair was pitch black and as messy as it has ever been, eyes that exact shade of icy blue that he found himself thinking of more often then he would ever admit. But then there was the little bit of stubble that wasn’t there last time and the jaw line that was sharper then when they were nineteen and he let himself think that coming back over and over again wasn’t selfish and stupid as hell.  
Dean could still remember waking up to that mess of hair and the feeling of combing his fingers trough it until the others eyes finally opened and a smile found itself on his face as an answer to his own. He has always been a grumpy son of a bitch in the morning, but that little pull up of the corners of his lips was for Dean to see anyway.  
He could still remember it all as if it was yesterday; but there was a frown on the other man’s face now that reminded him of just how much he doesn’t deserve to have any of it.  
“Heya Cas” Dean tried for a nonchalant smile; making the frown of the other more prominent and his own smile slip in return. Yeah, he can’t bullshit himself out of this one. Suddenly he was just so tired. “This isn’t how I planned to see you again.” He tried joking through it, voice too strained for the joking tone it was intended with. It sounded small and broken instead. He felt small and broken.  
“I wasn’t aware you planned to see me again at all.” The words were said in an even tone, but they hurt more than any angry outburst could, making him wince.  
He deserved that one though. He may have never said it, but two years of missed phone calls and no visits made it kind of obvious.  
Still, the man stayed sitting down, not running out like Dean was sure he would. And he is so pathetic because all it did was make him want to disappear all over again or never leave at all. He walked out of all of this and yet, there he was; willing to deal with all his bullshit even after everything.  
“I’m sorry.”  
There was no response to that one but Cas didn’t run out still, silently watching him instead. Like he was apprising him.  
Dean will take it though.  
He will take what he can get.  
.  
.  
.  
The trip from his car to an apartment building close by has been a blur of getting tugged through the streets and up the stairs, before he was finally just gently pushed down onto a couch.  
Now, as he sat there Dean let his face fall onto his hands, head feeling heavy and mind too jumbled up to deal with any of it.  
Fuck, he shouldn’t have come back.  
A cup of something steaming hot and smelling too much like herbs was being pressed against his arm before he had the time to even think about getting up and leaving like he should have done already.  
The smell had him scrunching his nose in disgust and looking up at the man, ready to argue about whatever leaf water was being offered, but stopping short because he was there and he should just shut up before he’s kicked to the curb like he deserves.  
“Don’t give me that look, Dean. The tea is good for you.”  
Oh right, the cup was still being pressed against his hand. He let his fingers wrap around it in silence with a mumbled ‘thanks’; averting his eyes to stare at the steam rather than meeting his eyes.  
Coward.  
It took a few minutes of shuffling in the kitchen before Cas sat himself on the coffee table right in front of him with his own cup of tea.  
Dean didn’t even try pretending like he was drinking his own.  
“What happened?” There it was. The start of questions that can’t be answered.  
“It’s complicated.” He tried for a smile again, it didn’t pass this time. “I just need a place to crash for a few days.”  
Tired. That’s what he was. He was just so very tired.  
In front of him the other man sighed, seemingly deflating himself. “Dean, I can’t do this anymore. I’m not a teen anymore.” The words were expected, but felt like a slap in the face anyway. It got Dean looking up again and seeing pain fill the eyes he never wanted to see pain in.  
He did that. Of course he did.  
“Just this once, okay?” It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop his mouth from forming the words anyway. “Just one more time and you won’t see me ever again.”  
Once, years ago, Dean was able to count the things that made him happy on one hand. Sammy, The Impala, a good pie and a good lay. Then he dared think he deserves more, he took more and now it’s too many things to count, but all of them led to the same source. The one sitting in front of him, looking as pained as he felt.  
He did that too. But damn everything if he can just walk away from it again. Not like this. Not today.  
Shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired beyond his own years, Cas was the first to look away.  
Dean knew it was no one’s fault but his own, but stood his ground anyway. No matter how shaky it may be.  
He needs this. He needs Cas.  
When has he not though?  
“That’s not what I want.”  
“I know. I’m still asking.”  
Selfish.  
Cas looked broken and Dean was selfish. It was always the same.  
.  
.  
.  
The moment Dean drove past the ‘Welcome to Oregon’ sign, he couldn’t help but smile big and floor the gas pedal.  
So close.  
It took no longer then twenty minutes before he was parked in front of the familiar house, taking a deep breath before stepping out. The almost mansion looked menacing in the daylight, but damn did it ever look haunted under the nights sky. All clean cut and completely white as it towered over him, as if it, like the people living inside, thought it was better than everyone else.  
The teen felt a shiver run down his spine, even as he walked towards it, phone already in hand and text sending out just as his feet hit the familiar flowerbed. It may be dark, but Dean knows the path by heart after so long.  
As always he only got to count until ten before the light turned on and the window above him opened, making a smile spread on his face almost involuntarily as his eyes met blue ones.  
“Repunzul, Repunzul, let down your hair.” Dean teased out, barely above a whisper, just loud enough for the other to hear.  
The effort got him an eye roll in return, and damn there go those damn butterflies in his gut again. Way to act like a teenage girl, Winchester.  
Only a year ago, the teen would have chastise himself for all of this, the feelings, the thoughts, the stupidity of what he was doing three towns over from where he was supposed to be, and at 2am at that. But now, today, there was no time to be anything but relived and happy as the one before him climbed out of the second floor window, rope in hand, and (almost) gracefully dropped right next to him.  
Dean was nothing, but smiles as the “Hello Dean” was whispered between the two, followed by a body pressing him against a wall and lips crushed against his own.  
Always straight to the point.  
If he wasn’t otherwise preoccupied, the teen would have laughed.  
Letting his hands fist into the others hair, he felt himself relax for the first time in months. Damn, did he miss this.  
“Nice to see you too, Cas.” Dean spoke as the lips moved from his lips to his neck, sounding breathless and not caring one bit. There are more pressing matters to attend to, like figuring out why it’s a bad idea to fuck against the wall he was being pressed against. Something about people sleeping on the other side.  
As Cas scraped his teeth against that one spot under his ear Dean had a real hard time caring about that right now though.  
“How long can you stay?” The words were spoken against his skin still, running another shiver through Dean, for a completely different reason than before.  
Flipping them over so that the other was pressed against the wall now, Dean let himself press their lips together for another kiss before answering. “Three hours. Sammy thinks I’m out getting laid so I need to be back in the morning.”  
“Well, your brother is not wrong.” With the words Cas moved so that their hips were pressed together, making them both moan as their clothed dicks grid against each other; finally giving some friction.  
“Fuck yea, man.“ In a blink, it was him pressed against the wall again. Not that Dean minded one bit as they continued to dry hump each other right there against the house of horrors.  
“Condoms?” The other asked between kisses, seemingly head clear enough to think ahead.  
“Car.”  
That was all it took for Cas to move them both away from the house and towards where he knew Dean parked Baby. It was where he always parked her, hidden away enough in the tree line that no one can see them unless they were looking.  
Not to say that it didn’t take a while to actually get to said car since neither of them thought to actually stop the kissing.  
“God, Dean. You are magnificent.” Cas whispered against his skin as he opened him up in the back seat, hitting right there with every bend of long fingers, effectively turning Dean into a moaning mess.  
Unable to form coherent words, Dean just pulled the other into another kiss, wrapping his legs around the teen’s hips.  
Hours later as he watched Sammy shove cereal in his mouth, eyes on a book he held in the other hand, Dean let himself feel the inevitable regret of leaving Cas behind once again. But he also let himself remember the ‘I love you's' that were pushed onto his skin with every touch. Let himself feel the reminder of said touch with soft presses againt the many hickeys left behind.  
It was selfish and stupid, but Dean couldnt get the smile off of his face, even as Sam kicked him from under the table with a frown and a 'Gross, Dean' as he noticed it.  
.  
.  
.  
“I can take the couch.” This was awkward. He was sitting here, opposite the only person he ever felt at home with, like he could breathe and let his guard down for once; and it felt like he was being suffocated from the sheer awkwardness that surrounded them.  
This wasn’t just a quick stop as he drove from one hunt to the next, a stop to see and feel the love that he constantly kept leaving behind. It wasn’t like it has been so many times before. No, this was uncomfortable and tense in a way that left Dean’s skin crawling and his shoulders hunch in.  
It was tense. Painfully so.  
Because Dean left this behind years ago now. He left Cas behind without even saying goodbye, because he knew he would never be able to go through with it if he had to. Just hearing his voice would make the words stay stuck in his throat in a way that would leave him choking on them. So he just left and never came back, never let himself even think about it as a viable option.  
So, here he was now. Sitting on a couch, in an unfamiliar apartment that just felt so much like Cas that it was painful to even look around; and he didn’t know what to do with his hands.  
It was awkward and Dean had no one to blame but himself.  
Dean’s words were met with silence and a frown as Cas just kept staring at him, making him shift under his gaze.  
“Don’t be ridiculous. You are not sleeping on the couch.”  
“I just don’t want to make this-“  
“Uncomfortable? You are already doing that.”  
Yeah, Dean just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Why does he always have to fuck everything up?  
“Can we just pretend like I didn’t leave for two years? Can we go back to how it was?” Dean was drowning and he knew it; grasping at straws like the desperate man that he has become.  
He didn’t even have to look up to know that Cas was still just staring at him, and how fucking gone for him was he that he missed that. Missed the creepy staring and the constant eye contact. Not like much eye contact was happening, since he still refused to look up, but the premise was there.  
But then Cas was getting up and Dean’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. He’s done it now. Time to go sleep in the car.  
“Drink your tea.” The man was walking away, but he wasn’t kicking him out yet. “I’ll go make lunch.”  
Dean doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve a second chance when they both know that he will leave again.  
It seems that he still got it anyway.  
The first sip of his now cold tea felt like a sigh of relief.  
.  
.  
.  
One of the first things that dad taught Dean after his mom’s death was how to fire a rifle.  
One of the first things that Dean taught Sam was how to deal with the nightmares that followed.  
Cas didn’t need to be taught. He always just knew.

Waking up from a blood filled nightmare left Dean gasping and shaking on most nights. The fact that it took a week for this one to start was a small miracle, if he was going to be honest with himself. The slamming of the door still haunted his waking hours like a fucked up playlist, so of course it will follow onto his sleeping hours too. After all, why not make it a party?  
Cas was there though. As Dean woke up gasping and disoriented Cas was right there, arms wrapped around him feeling like a safety blankets that he knows he doesn’t deserve.  
“Sammy left.” It was whispered against warm skin in the dark of the night. He doesn’t think he would have been after to get the words out otherwise.  
No words were said in return, so he just continued on. Continued talking like the damn broke, and all those secrets brewing inside of him for days now, weeks even, clawed their way out no matter how much poison was left behind.  
He talked about the fighting and the yelling. How Sam didn’t even think to mention that he was leaving in the first place. Dean, understood why he wouldn’t mention his want of collage to their dad, but why not him. Why didn’t he deserve at least a heads up before leaving him high and dry with a pissed off John?  
He talked about the pain of feeling abandoned, and felt the arms hold him tighter as a hand drew soothing circles against his bare back. All it did was make him feel worse, because of course Cas would understand that pain. It was Dean that made him feel it. Is going to make him feel it again.  
The thought was bitter, but it also made him realize that no matter what, he will at least say goodbye this time. Cas deserves so much more, but Dean can at least do that much. He will have to.  
Dean continued talking until his throat went dry and the sun started shinning dimly through the curtains. It started with Sam, but it turned towards himself after a while, so he talked about the nightmares and the murders. Talked about all the things he has done and how he is too selfish to let things go. Even when he knows he doesn’t deserve them.  
Not once did Cas stop him or say a word, opting to just hold him and hum whenever Dean stopped to breathe for a second.  
It was only when he let himself fall back into silence that it hit him that this is more then he has talked in a long while. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise though.  
After all, there is no one else in his life that would have listened.  
.  
.  
.  
Pushing Baby to her limit, Dean found himself two towns over before he was able to stop on the side of the road with shaking hands.  
He didn’t even have a good reason to be there. No hunt. Nowhere he needed to be. Nowhere he wanted to be.  
Which was exactly what the problem was.  
Dean has been staying with Cas for a month now, setting a new record on the longest time he let himself stay, pushing way past the one week he still looked back on fondly. But that’s the thing too, a month has past and the last thing on Dean’s mind has been leaving, even though he knows it’s what he should be doing. It’s what he should have already done a while ago.  
It’s not like he meant to stay. He really didn’t. Staying for longer than a few days was not even on his mind, until he noticed that the seasons have started to change. Until he noticed that he has stayed.  
And really, how much more selfish can Dean get?  
Sam left, and apparently so did Dean. Dad must be out of his mind by now.  
He knows what he should be doing now. Continue driving, find a motel, charge his phone, call dad and go back. He should just go back.  
But, every time Dean even looks towards the glove department he remembers the grocery list that he carelessly threw in there this morning. He remembers the goodbye kiss Cas left him with before he headed to work, hot to-go mug full of coffee in his hand, because Dean cannot deal with him complaining about how bad the coffee at the school is anymore. Waking up a little earlier to brew some damn good coffee before Mr Gumpy wakes up is worth the small smile he gets in return anyway.  
Dean also remembers that it’s Friday so it’s his turn to cook dinner, and that there are grocery bags in his trunk that have icecream that will melt if he doesn’t get it home soon. And he should really get home soon because Cas will worry if he just doesn’t, won’t he? How would he feel if he just gets back to an empty apartment? How long would he wait for him this time? How many missed calls on his new phone would there be?  
He needs to keep driving. Needs to go back to John and make sure that he has backup as he goes from one monster to another. Dean needs to do so many things.  
But, all he wants to do is go home.  
He wants to wake up to Cas hogging all the sheets, and listen to him complain about his music, even as he turns up the volume as they cook dinner. He wants to say the I love you’s in actual words without the imminent threat of leaving or death standing in his way. He wants to get a job and learn how to bake a pie and just live his life. He wants to stay.  
He wants to go home.  
Sam left to live his life the way he wants to live it. What is stopping Dean from doing the same?  
The answer is himself. He is stopping it, like the idiot that he is. But, he can also have this. He can be selfish and stay with Cas for as long as he lets him. He can stay.  
So with one last look at the road leading where he should be going, Dean turns the car around and goes home.  
.  
.  
.  
“Hiya Cas, I hear the janitors closet is all he rave right now. Five stars and everything. Wanna make out?” He finished off with a dazzling smile for good measure, as he caged the boy against the lockers with his arms on either side of him, body just close enough that they were touching, but barely.  
The frown he got in return was so worth it.  
Cas honest to god frowned at him for a good few seconds, before ducking under his arm and walking away. In the opposite direction from the janitors closet, of course.  
“Oh come on Cas, I even stole the keys.” Keeping up with the others stride was no problem for Dean as they weaved around other students in the hallway. No one was paying them much mind even as he jiggled said keys in his hands to show them off.  
“That’s not my name, Dean.” Bastard didn’t even look at him as he crushed his poor heart. “And put those back.”  
“Don’t be such a spoil sport.” He was walking backwards now, making sure to turn his smile to one hundred because that’s what always works. “I know you want to.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows and the frown deepened.  
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean was wondering how much more frowning can Cas do before he gets stuck like that. Not that it mattered much since he was cute when he frowned anyway.  
Dean was about to casually mention the janitors closet again when he almost ran into someone, only to turn around and see that it was a familiar someone. “Hey Sammy, how was that test?”  
Seeing the kid roll his eyes at the name made him stop walking, but it didn’t stop the other, who just continued power walking on. “See ya around Cas. I’ll get a yes out of you eventually!”  
“Doubtful.” It was yelled back without even turning around, which just put the grin back to his face. Seeing it made Sammy groan and continue walking towards his own class without much more then “It was good” and “See ya.”  
It didn’t matter much since he was late for his own class anyway. Might as well go since Cas made it very clear that there will be no more anything if he doesn’t get his grades up. Which was a stupid rule, but he should probably try if he wants to kiss him again anytime soon. And damn does he want to.  
He should probably make a copy of that key too. Just in case.  
.  
.  
.  
Getting a job was easy. After all it wasn’t the first time that he had to fake some documents. Though they were with his actual name this time since this was probably going to be long-term thing if he can help it.  
It was actually ridiculous how fast he got into the routine of things once he was able to get his hands on the first car that needed fixing at the repair shop. There was still the smell of coffee every day, and the late mornings that the weekends bring, and the small smiles that he gets whenever he cooks something delicious, because Cas is still a menace in the kitchen, and Dean hasn’t yet earned the big smiles back.  
But that was okay. Everything was okay because the constant sword swinging over his head that kept reminding him that he needs to leave, that this is temporary, is all but gone now. So, Dean lets himself live in the moments instead of working hard to make sure he memorizes them for later.  
He still wakes up at the ass crack of dawn and makes coffee, gets a smile and a goodbye kiss for his efforts, but now he also gets in his car an hour later and goes to work, where he gets to fix things instead of break them. And he banters with the guys that do the same, because they are kind of cool to work with too. They invite Dean for beer after his shifts that he keeps declining because he saw the relief on Cas’s face when he came back from his first day of work, and it was enough to make him promise himself that he will come straight home every day. If only to never see that look on his face again.  
It however, wasn’t enough to actually tell him where he goes every day. Not for the lack of trying though. Cas just doesn’t ask and Dean can’t find the right words or the perfect moments to bring it up. The words just keep getting stuck at the tip of his tongue, but never get any further than that.  
The perfect moment seems to be as Dean has a burger halfway to his mouth, since that is when Cas finally asks the questions Dean wanted to answer, but was too chicken shit to bring up.  
“When are you leaving?”  
Cas is staring at him with a closed off expression, as if he is preparing himself to be punched in the face. And yea, Dean should have figured out something was up when he didn’t start inhaling food the second that it was put in front of him.  
He puts his own burger back down. “Do you want me to leave?”  
“You know I don’t.” And damn, there is that frown again that made Dean fall in love at the age of fifteen.  
He knows that he should say something, he should tell the other that he isn’t leaving, that he’ll stay and never hurt him like that again. He should be promising him things he never dared promise anyone before. But the words just aren’t coming out.  
Apparently, it’s one thing to decide to be selfish, to stay, and a whole other to actually say the words. He was never allowed to be selfish after all. He still isn’t.  
Dean chose to be selfish for a reason though. So, in frustration he just gets up and walks over to the front door where his jacket hangs like it belongs there, like he belongs there, and gets the latest envelop with his paycheck out of the pocket before getting back to the sight of Cas frowning at Dean’s empty chair.  
Which, yeah he has a chair. He doesn’t know when it became his chair or when he claimed the left side of the bed as his too, but they just are and that makes Dean happy. It makes him so happy.  
So, even as words apparently decided to run away from him, Dean meets Castiel’s eyes head on and hands him the envelop because that right there is proof. He has a job. He has his favorite grocery store, and friends at work, and his chair at their tiny dining room table, in their tiny apartment that they should really move out of and into somewhere bigger. And he’s making roots and he’s staying. He chose to stay.  
Words finally find him again, as he shifts from foot to foot, and rubs a palm to the back of his neck, because Cas is looking at the check with Dean’s name on it and frowning. Always with the frowning.  
“I-Umn-I got a job.”  
“You got a job?” Their eyes meet again, and Cas looks so hopeful for a second there before the passive mask is on again. And yeah, Dean needs to still fix so many things between them, but he has been here for almost four months now and he is staying and he will fix it.  
“A while ago, yes. Didn’t know how to bring it up.”  
His words were followed by silence, and it was awkward, but not nearly as much as it was when he first got back. Cas looked like he was searching for something on his face.  
“You’re staying.” It wasn’t a question. Cas knew him well enough to read between the lines. Sometimes, Dean thinks that he knows him better then he knows himself.  
“I love you.” He was planning on just saying yes, but that works too I guess.  
The smile he got in return was one of the big ones, one of the ones that he remembers were just for him when they were nothing more than teenagers in love. Seeing it made the tension melt out of his shoulders that he didn’t even notice was still there.  
“You’re an assbut.” Ah yes, there was Cas, always right there to kill the moment.  
“We need a bigger apartment.” Dean let himself sit back down again.  
“The lease is up in April.”  
“Something with a big kitchen and a memory foam mattress”  
“We can go mattress shopping tomorrow.”  
“Good.”  
“I love you too.”  
Dean really should have said something about the job sooner.  
Cas is still smiling as he talks about this one kid at the school that has been giving him trouble, and he lets Dean steal his fries even though he still has some on his own plate, like he always does. And Dean is happy to just be here right now, even though he knows that Cas will push for a cat eventually, and the new place will definitely have a wall length bookshelf or two.  
Dean really hopes that Sammy is living the life that he wanted up there at Stanford, because he sure as hell is.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a year to finish this, so I really hope you like it.  
> There will be more short stories related to this one, either to show off their past (since there is 6 years in there), or their future so stay tuned I guess.
> 
> Leave a comment


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